


The Throes of Fever

by theflowercrownedking



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Sickfic, james is a love drunk patient, post-reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 09:17:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12009708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theflowercrownedking/pseuds/theflowercrownedking
Summary: In which James is feverishly sick, and convinced Thomas is an angel sent to care for him.





	The Throes of Fever

James awoke from a murky haze and immediately wished to return to it. The blood running through his veins scalding was hot and yet the blanket wrapped around him felt as though it were made of ice. He could feel his whole body shivering, and with shaky hands he tried to huddle the blanket closer to him, impossible though it was – the blanket was practically a second layer of skin at this point.

James wasn’t sure where he was, all he could see from his vantage point was a white wall and a door, and that wasn’t much to go on. Deep down, he knew he should try to move, to find out where he was, but his limbs all felt so heavy, weighed down with exhaustion and what felt like a cannonball on each limb.

After a few minutes of him blankly staring at the wall and trying and failing to make sense of anything, he heard movement from the hall and saw the door open. James felt his world slow as he sluggishly watched what must have been the most beautiful man he’d ever seen in his life walk into the room, gracefully carrying a tray in his hands and moving towards him. If James could have moved, he would have checked his breath. With broad shoulders and golden hair, he seemed celestial, and James realised in that moment that he was being visited by one of God’s angels.

The light in the room shined around his silhouette like a halo, and James desperately wanted to move closer and see more of the figure. Maybe if he could find the strength he could even reach out and perhaps touch this heavenly being in front of him. He would feel warm, and like home, he was sure. James would give anything to have this man willingly touch him, even if it were for mere seconds, with the tip of his pinky finger.

He shifted in his blankets – damn them for trapping him, he was swaddled like a new-born babe and could barely move his arms. Fighting to release them, he shuffled with his full body towards the angel, desperately trying to get even an inch closer to this divine vision, gasping slightly at the exertion.

“Calm down, I’m here, I’m coming,” and by the Gods! His voice was smooth like honey and James could feel it dripping over him, soothing him, and he never wanted it to stop. “James, dear, try to sit still, I was just getting some water.”

But James was unable to focus on the meaning of words, too lost in the melody of them – hang on, what was that – “You know my name?” To think someone as heavenly as this knew James was almost too much to comprehend and he simultaneously wanted to bury back down into the blanket, and fling himself full bodily into the man’s arms.

He didn’t get the chance to do either, however, as the man moved closer. In the corner of James’ eye he saw the man lay the tray which held a water basin on the bedside table, but thoughts of that quickly left his mind as he heard his angel speak again.

“Yes, James of course I know your name,” James was entranced once more, and he found himself leaning forward as the man came to sit up against the headboard. Arms reached around him and dragged him up till he was lying with his head in the man’s lap and oh – it was as blissful as he had imagined. He would close his eyes and rejoice if not for the fact that any second not watching the gorgeous man above him would be a moment wasted.

The man looked down at him and oh his blue eyes were striking, with the intensity of the sea. But he was frowning, looking worried, why was he worried? James wanted to reach up and smooth the lines from his face, and he would have too, if he could move his damn arms. He wriggled slightly, before the man spoke again and he was once again captured by feverish his one-track mind.

“It’s me, Thomas, you know that James.” And yes, Thomas, that fit him perfectly. There was a spark of recognition in the back of his mind but he banished it. If he had met a man as radiant as this before surely he would have remembered him.

Nodding to himself, James whispered ‘Thomas,’ to himself, noting with marvel how natural the name felt in his mouth.

“Yes, darling, it’s me.” Thomas was smiling down at him now, and that expression was much better than a frown, James decided. The crinkle round his eyes made him seem kind and magnificent and James whimpered, wanting nothing more than to reach up and pull him into a kiss, but the weight of his own limbs stopped him from moving. Part of him was still in disbelief that a man as stunning as Thomas was cradling him as he was.

At James’ moan of displeasure, Thomas brought a hand to his cheek and James wanted could feel tears of joy brewing at the simple touch. “What is it darling, what do you want me to do?”

What _did_ James want him to do? Everything, he decided. He wanted everything this man would give, and more.

“Marry me,” James rasped. “Would you – Please, would you marry me?” Could angels even enter matrimony? James hoped so. He would pray to God and beg every day from dawn till dusk, if it meant he could worship this beautiful man for the rest of his life.

“Oh, darling.” James saw the concern return to Thomas’ eyes, and no that wouldn’t do, James wanted the smile to return.

James felt Thomas shift away, and his face briefly vanished before re-appearing, but not before James whimpered out a quiet, “please.”

Feeling the rim of a cup against his lips, James opened his mouth and drunk as cool water was tipped into his mouth. Thomas surely was an angel, and this must be water from the springs that the gods bathed in, for never had he tasted anything so refreshing in his life. Gulping down the water, James was struck with the need to thank Thomas for going to the trouble of bringing him such holy water, but in that moment he realised with devastation that Thomas hadn’t answered him.

Turning his head to the side, he felt the water drip down his chin before Thomas removed the cup completely, placing it once more on the table to his side. James felt a moment of shame – this angel had brought him holy water and he had dribbled it down his chin like a simpleton, no wonder Thomas wouldn’t marry him if he was so inept and ungrateful.

He tried to apologise, but Thomas shushed him and returned to cradling his face. Of course he would be so forgiving, and James could do naught but rejoice as Thomas said “Darling, I love you, and we’ve been married for four years.”

Surely Thomas was mistaken, but if this was what he believed then James didn’t want to correct him. “Then marry me again, please, I need you.”

Thomas’ soft smile turned to a grin at that, and James saw it light up his entire face. This must be what they mean when they say that angels glow. “Yes, darling of course. But first, you must rest.”

James had half the mind to argue that no – they should find a church and marry now before Thomas realised how undeserving James was, but then Thomas shifted so that they were both lying.  He felt so at home in Thomas’ embrace that he set his worries aside, not wanting to ruin the moment, wanting it to last forever as he stared up at Thomas in awe. He distantly felt a cool rag being placed across his forehead, and it must have been the same refreshing holy water – Thomas truly had a generous and kind heart to gift him with so much. He opened his mouth to thank him, but felt a finger against his lips and fell silent.

“Hush, dear, I’ll be here when you wake,” Thomas whispered to him, before stroking his fingers though his hair, and though James did his best to keep his eyes on Thomas, he was powerless to resist the sweet call of sleep.

 

* * *

 

Groggily returning to the world of the living, James felt like shit. His head felt like it was full of cotton, and his arms were trapped to his sides by some villainous blanket. Looking around he saw he was in the room he'd shared with Thomas ever since they'd bought the farm almost half a decade ago.

Shaking himself free, he turned to the side and saw Thomas sitting up against the headboard his side, reading from a leather-bound book. Hearing his movement, Thomas’ eyes flicked up to him and he smiled.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” Before James could dignify that with a response, he was helped into a sitting position and handed a cup of water, which he drained easily. “Your fever broke late last night, the doctor said you should start feeling a bit more human soon.”

James grunted at that, clasping the now empty cup in his hands. “What day is it?”

“Tuesday,” Thomas replied, watching at him closely, taking the cup and placing it on the table, along with his book. “You were out for a while. It’s good to see you lucid again… You worried me love.”

James met his eyes and tilted his head in sympathy. “The entire British Empire couldn’t keep me away from you, I’ll be damned if I let a poxy cold separate us after all that.”

At James’ familiar gruff tone, Thomas smiled. “It was a little more than a ‘poxy cold’ dear, I wouldn’t underestimate it if I were you.” James shuffled closer at that, and Thomas lifted his arm so that he could snugly fit at his side. “You said some interesting things in the throes of your fever, you know?”

“Oh?” James decided to humour him. He still felt sluggish, and the comfort of Thomas’ arms around him made him feel safe. Maybe he could get Thomas to read for him from the novel he’d set aside.

“Yes, you were very sick, and feeling very sorry for yourself for the most part.” James didn’t blame his past self for that in the least. He still felt a little sorry for himself now. “But then yesterday, you said some most peculiar things.”

James didn’t quite like the way things were going – He knew his mind went to some dark places sometimes and he hoped he hadn’t said anything of the sort to Thomas.

Feeling James tense in his arms, Thomas started to trace small soothing patterns into his forearms. “Nothing crude, don’t worry, in fact it was quite flattering.”

Now James was confused. He shifted slightly and turned to Thomas with a questioning expression.

Thomas gave him a quick peck on the lips before continuing, “You seemed to be under the impression that I was an angel sent down to heaven to look after you.”

 If anything, James’ brow furrowed a little more at that, before he looked at Thomas again with a quirk of his lips. “Well, My Lord, I have to admit I can see a resemblance.”

“Yes darling you made that very clear.” Thomas was smiling down at him plainly now, a cheeky glint in his eye. “You were mumbling something about holy water, and thanking me for bringing it all the way from heaven just for you. I hate to tell you this now, James, but it was just water from the well that I boiled over the stove, same as always.”

James rolled his eyes at that. “Now I know you are telling lies, My Lord. I know you too well, and if you thought it would aid my healing in any way you would surely go and find the nearest church and bother the priest into blessing the whole house with me still in it.”

If anything though, this only made Thomas grin further. “Love, if I’d have brought a priest to you you’d care for naught but his blessing in holy matrimony. You were quite insistent on proposing.”

James frowned. “But we’ve been married for –”

“– For four years yes I know. You didn’t seem to believe me though.” Thomas moved his hand to cradle James’ face much like he had hours ago, and many times before that. “I’d have shown you our rings, if I thought I’d be able to tear your gaze away from my face.”

Leaning into the hand on his cheek, James smiled. “Well, it is such a pretty face.”

“Mmm quite,” Thomas said before kissing him slow and easy. “You need more rest though, dear.”

Turning slightly to settle in Thomas arms once more, James huffed a little but admitted to himself that Thomas was right, as he often was. “Read to me?”

“James, my truest love, it would be a pleasure.”

Reaching over to the bed side table, Thomas picked up his novel and resumed reading it, aloud this time. When he felt James’ breathing even out and heard the soft snuffles James made in his sleep as he tried to burrow further into his arms, he stopped and looked down at him. Smiling to himself, he then continued to read in silence, peaceful and content now that he knew his lover was safe.

**Author's Note:**

> (Yeah Thomas is probably gonna get sick now too, but can you imagine him keeping a distance from a sick James to avoid infection? Because I sure as hell Can't)
> 
> I was sitting here today working on a different fic when suddenly I thought 'Oh shit, imagine James not recognising Thomas b/c hes so sick, but instantly falling in love with him anyway and proposing to him desperately' and here we are, like 2? hours later. I don't have a beta reader so I hope it still turned out alright.
> 
> If you cant tell from James' inner monologue, in this house we love and support Thomas Hamilton.


End file.
